


Back to Back and Dressed in Black

by Brainless_Genius



Category: The Lion King (1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Timon/Pumbaa is referenced as something that happened in the past, stage crew au, timon is bi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 02:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16610312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brainless_Genius/pseuds/Brainless_Genius





	1. Chapter 1

When Timon and Pumbaa transferred to Pridelands High School, they had no idea how soon their lives would change. Walking into the crowded cafeteria, they searched for an empty seat. One table was completely empty except for two people sitting across from each other.

Finding this a bit odd, they headed for the table. The boy, whose back was turned to them, snapped, “I thought we made this clear two years ago!”

The girl, who was look at them with curiosity, said, “Simba, I think these kids are new...”

Simba’s demeanor changed instantly. “Oh!” He turned to face them. “Welcome to PHS! I’m Simba, student body president, and this is Nala, my vice president.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“...And she’s also my girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you!” said Pumbaa. “I’m Pumbaa, and this is my best friend, Timon.”

“We just moved here at the same time, but we've been best friends from kindergarten. My uncle actually works here; do you know Max Berkowitz?”

They were now sitting next to the two, finally feeling comfortable with their surroundings, when a female voice spoke up from behind Timon and Simba.

“We know him.”

Timon turned around, but Simba didn’t have to.

“Shenzi, what do you want?”

“Actually, we want to sit here.”

Timon’s first impression of Shenzi was that she was very tall, but then again, he had always been short. Plus, she was standing up, and he wasn’t.

His second impression was that she was pretty in a rebellious way that almost intimidated him.

Almost, but not quite.

“I don’t mind if they sit here, Simba.”

Pumbaa was quick to agree with him, and Simba reluctantly allowed Shenzi and her friends to sit at the table.

Shenzi sat down next to Timon, gave him and Pumbaa the once-over, and then, without any trace of tact, asked, “Who are you two?”

Timon opened his mouth, but Simba answered the question.

“This is Timon and Pumbaa,” Simba said, gesturing to each one in turn. “They just moved here.”

“Cool,” Shenzi replied absentmindedly. “What were you saying about Mr. Berkowitz?”

“He’s my uncle,” Timon said.

“Why did you guys want to sit here, anyway?” Nala interrupted.

“Well, a bunch of freshmen took our table. We tried to get ‘em to move, but they wouldn’t budge.”

The boy next to her added, “Yours was the only table with enough room for all of us.”

Simba broke into the conversation. “Timon, Pumbaa, this is Shenzi, Banzai, Ed, and... their friends.”

As Shenzi introduced the others, Timon leaned over to Simba and said, “Who are they?”

Shenzi heard him, though, and she began to explain, with Banzai filling in the gaps.

“We’re stage crew kids. While the drama kids are acting onstage, we’re doing everything behind the scenes.”

“So how do you know my uncle?”

Banzai said, “He’s in charge of stage crew. Technically, Shenzi’s in charge -- she’s the SM -- but he’s kind of there as the instigator.”

“What’s an SM?”

“Stage manager,” Shenzi said. “Last year it was another girl, but she graduated, so I got the job.”

“I keep asking her to make me ASM,” said Banzai, “but she keeps saying she wants to ‘survey all her options’ first.”

“As if I would ever make you ASM anyway,” Shenzi scoffed, rolling her eyes. “All you and Ed ever do is goof off.”

Timon nodded as if he understood all this. “So how do you guys know each other?” he asked, gesturing first to the stage crew kids, then to Simba and Nala.

“Well, it’s actually a long story...” said Simba, but Shenzi and Banzai decided they would finish the thought for him.

“See, back when we were freshmen, two years ago, we were total losers. We were already in with the older theatre kids, but they’d already established _themselves_ as losers.”

“Then one day, toward the beginning of the year, this weird loner kid approached us and said he could make us the most popular kids in school.”

“He was a senior named Taka, and he was running for student body president. His running mate was this girl named Zira who had a huge crush on him, but he didn’t care about her, at least, not that we could tell.”

“He ended up winning by a landslide, and just like he said, we sat at the “popular” table the very next day.”

“That’s this one,” Simba told Timon and Pumbaa in a stage whisper.

“Hey, don’t give away the story!” Banzai protested.

“Anyway, what we didn’t know was that he had actually secured his victory by promising every group in the school that he would make them popular, but we were the only ones who he actually lived up to that promise for.”

“We were fine with that at first, until about a week later, this jock came up to us and said his group - and all the other groups, too - were getting kinda restless.”

“That was when we realized that even though we were sitting at the “popular” table, everyone hated us. They were jealous because Taka made us popular and not them. What they didn’t realize was that he’d broken his promise to us, too. We still didn’t have any more friends than we’d started with. All that had changed was the table.”

“Student opinion -- including ours -- turned way against Taka. And somehow, we managed to impeach him.”

Timon and Pumbaa gaped at them. “You _impeached_ a _student president_?”

“Right, but to this day nobody really knows how. So then, there was a re-election, and Simba and Nala were chosen.”

“So why don’t you guys sit with anyone but each other?” Pumbaa asked.

“Well,” Nala answered, “we used to let anyone sit with us who wanted to, but the table got so crowded that we couldn’t have a decent conversation.”

“So we politely asked everyone to go sit with their friends, instead of with the local legends.”

Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed looked at each other, trying not to laugh, but they quickly burst out in ill-disguised snickers.

Bemused, Timon said to Simba, “That’s a rather cocky way of referring to yourself, isn’t it?”

“I know,” said Simba. “It was mostly for their benefit anyway.” He glanced at Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed, who were still laughing.

“Eh, it’s no problem. I do it all the time.”

“Okay,” said Shenzi, choking on her laughter, “but I’ll bet you don’t actually have anything to back it up with.” She poked a finger at him, laughing even harder.

“Are they always like this?” asked Pumbaa.

“Yep. Get used to it.”

Just then, the bell rang. “What do you two have next?” Simba asked.

Timon glanced at his schedule. “We have English with Mr. Birdman.”

“Oh, I know him. He’s kind of a snob, let me be the first to warn you. I can walk you to class.”

“Thanks!” said Pumbaa, but Timon was unusually quiet.

As they walked, Simba asked him, “What’s the matter?”

Timon looked around to make sure no one else was listening, then asked, “Are Shenzi and Banzai, like, a thing?”

Simba laughed. “No, actually, although you might think so. They’ve just always been best friends, that’s it. Kind of like you and Pumbaa, I’m guessing.”

Timon and Pumbaa glanced at each other uncomfortably. “Well, actually...”

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry! I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well,” said Timon, rubbing the back of his neck, “we dated for a while until we decided we worked better as friends.”

“That’s pretty cool,” said Simba. “Usually when people break up, ‘We can still be friends’ is just a formality.”

“We’ve put our past behind us.”

“And speaking of... do you like Shenzi, then?”

Timon blushed. “I guess... enough to want to join stage crew.”

Simba nodded, thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, that might actually be pretty fun. I’m in if Nala is. We’ll have to figure out how to balance that with everything else, but I think we can make it work... Well, here’s the room. See you guys later, nice meeting you!”


	2. Chapter 2

“Woah,” said Simba, dramatically shielding his eyes as he walked in. “When you said ‘green room,’ I didn’t know you meant it literally.”

“Usually they’re not,” Shenzi answered, “but apparently we had a smartass for a school designer.”

She, Banzai, and Ed were showing Simba, Nala, Timon, and Pumbaa around the theatre area of the school. The green room was “bigger than most,” as Shenzi had said proudly, with five doors. One door led out to the stage right hallway, the other to the one of stage left. Two led to makeup rooms, and the last to a bathroom. The room itself was sparsely furnished. A few tables and benches lined the walls, but the center of the room was completely empty. In fact, it would have appeared almost stark if not for the bright green walls, ceiling, and carpet.

“So this room has a couple purposes. Actors wait in here for their cues, and we use it as a break room, work room, and meeting room.”

“Me and Ed have fallen asleep in here a few times,” Banzai admitted.

The group exited to the stage right hallway. “The dressing rooms are through that door,” Shenzi said, pointing. “We hardly ever go in there, unless we need to tell an actor something urgent. Moving on...”

They walked back through the green room and into the opposite hallway. A large garage door opened to a big room full of wood and power tools. A smaller door stood next to it, leading it into the same room. “That’s the shop,” said Banzai. “We build scenery and sets and stuff in there.”

“There’s also the loft,” Shenzi added, pointing to a niche in the wall. “There are stairs in there that lead up to a room full of props and costumes from old shows. When we can, we reuse ‘em.”

Indeed, a window faced out above the shop, and the group could see costume racks inside.

They exited the shop and approached a pair of double doors. “Here’s stage left,” Shenzi announced, and flung them open with a practiced gesture.

Stage left seemed rather empty at first, but Shenzi amended that by showing them the ropes which were used to control the curtains and “flys,” or backdrops.

Ed laughed and pointed to himself.

“Yeah, Ed does the curtains. Nobody’s offered to do the flys yet, so we’ll need to figure that out.”

Banzai rolled his eyes. “It’s only your first day, and she’s already going into SM mode,” he told Timon, lowering his voice. “Sorry.”

Timon chuckled. “I don’t mind.”

As the group crossed to stage right and Shenzi showed them the house, Banzai stared at Timon as if he’d just had a revelation. “You like her, don’t you?”

Feigning confusion, Timon asked, “Who?”

“Come on, man, it’s super obvious. You blush every time you look at her, you compliment her every chance you get, _plus_ , you joined stage crew in the first place.” He smirked at Timon, daring him to argue.

After trying to come up with an excuse for a few seconds, Timon gave up. “Fine,” he said. “You got me.”

“What are you two talking about back there?” Shenzi called. “You’re falling behind!”

“Sorry!” Timon and Banzai replied in unison.

Timon turned back to Banzai. “You’re... okay with that?”

“Hey, I don’t own her. If you’re nice to her, she’ll like you, and if she likes you, I like you.”

“Sounds like you two have a pretty great friendship.”

“Yeah...” It had gotten awkward. Timon moved away, back towards Simba, Nala, and Pumbaa.

They were on stage right, and Shenzi opened another pair of double doors, dramatically revealing... a dark, musty closet.

“And this,” said Shenzi, “is the prop closet.”

She flicked on the light, needing to lean around the door to do so, but the newcomers’ unimpressed expressions did not change. All they could see inside were seemingly-endless stacks of chairs and music stands.

“I know it doesn’t look like much, but all this stuff gets moved out onto the loading dock during late rehearsals and performances,” Shenzi said, noting their disbelief. “That door in the back goes out to the dock. We prop it open during shows.”

She waved them inside, squeezing everyone into one small pocket of the closet. Shenzi gestured to a shelf on one wall. “There’s where we keep all the props. We arrange ‘em all by scene and act.” Then she pointed to a spot above the door. “Every year, people leave their names up there. It’s all written on glow tape, so even when the lights are out,” - she flipped the switch - “you can still read it.”

As soon as the lights went out, the space above the door lit up bright yellow. The names jumped out at Timon, but one caught his eye: _Shenzi Hyena_...

“Your last name is “Hyena’?” he asked in the darkness.

“Yes,” she said. “It’s already been the punchline of too many jokes, so believe me, you’re not being original by bringing it up.”

She flicked the lights back on, and the names faded back to blurs on the tape.

“Moving on...”

She took them through the house next, pointing out landmarks as they went.

“There’s a set closet there... another loft there, that’s for long-term prop and costume storage.. sound board, exits, booth...”

The latter she pointed to as they ascended the stairs toward it. Once inside, she checked to make sure everyone was still with her, then said,  “I’m not up here too much, but Banzai is, so if you have any questions about lights or sound, ask him.” They went back towards the stage, and a thin, grey-haired man stepped out from stage left.

“Timon?” he asked.

“Hi, Uncle Max,” Timon said, waving sheepishly.

“What are you doing here? I knew you were here at the school, but why are you in the theatre?”

Timon sighed and braced himself, knowing what was coming. “Actually... I’m joining stage crew.”

As expected, Max flipped out. “WHAT? You can’t join stage crew! Shenzi, tell him he can’t join!”

Shenzi smirked and looked between the two. “I don’t see any reason why he can’t.”

“ARE YOU NUTS?! He ruins everything he touches!”

Shenzi just laughed, winked at Timon, and said, “You’re in.”

After Max had taken some time to calm down, he added, “Nice to see you here, Simba, Nala.” He looked at Pumbaa. “And I remember you, you’re Timon’s friend. Pumbaa, right?”

Pumbaa nodded.

Max smiled, glad to see the new turnout, until he remembered why he was upset two minutes previously. He pulled Shenzi aside.

“Listen, Shenzi, whatever you do, don’t let my nephew near the power tools. Don’t let him near the flys, and _especially_ don’t let him in the cats!”

Shenzi nodded. Max, reassured, disappeared back into the shop. As soon as he was gone, Shenzi turned to the others. “Okay,” she said. “Time to get you all cat certified. Then we’ll do the power tools.”

“Here are the catwalks,” said Banzai, indicating a maze of walkways high above the stage.

“But I thought Max said...” began Timon, but Shenzi interrupted him.

“Don’t worry about it. Even the smallest setback is a total catastrophe to him. Besides, I’m sure you can’t be as bad as he says.”

Timon laughed nervously, glancing at the ladder Shenzi had begun to climb. Having Max as a relative had certainly exposed Timon to some of his... quirks, but now they were going to be spending a lot more time together in close quarters. Sure, Max had been exaggerating a little... but Timon still wasn’t all that great when it came to building things. And heights weren’t exactly his strong suit either.

Once she had reached the top, Shenzi called down, “Banzai! You help ‘em from down there, and I’ll show ‘em what to do once they’re up!”

Banzai gave her a mock salute, then turned to the others. “So you go up the ladder when you’re sure there’s no one coming down from above you. Yell up if you’re not sure. Then when you’re up, you yell down ‘Clear!’ When you start coming back down, yell ‘Descending!’ so people know. When you’re on the ground, yell ‘Clear!’ again.”

Nala asked, “Isn’t ‘descending’ kind of a mouthful? Why not just say ‘coming down’?”

“Because ‘coming down’ is what we yell when we’re lowering a fly,” said Banzai. “It would be too confusing if we used it for both. Who’s going up first?”

“I’ll do it,” Timon sighed, not wanting to put it off longer than he had to.

“Alright, just yell ‘ascending’ when you’re heading up.”

Feeling a bit silly, Timon looked up the shaft and shouted, “Ascending!” Then he began to climb the ladder toward the catwalks.

When he reached the top, Shenzi was standing on a platform. She raised her eyebrows in surprise upon seeing him emerge from the shaft first.

“Huh. Thought Lover Boy would come up first, figured he’d want to impress is girlfriend. Why’d you volunteer?”

“I... I wanted to get it over with,” said Timon, embarrassed.

“Nah,” Shenzi said. “You wanted to show you could do it. Prove your uncle wrong.”

He gaped at her, trying to decide how she had deduced that so quickly. She looked at him strangely in response, and he shifted his eyes downward. _Don’t stare, don’t stare_...

Well, anyway,” Shenzi said, “who’s coming up next?” Her question was answered when Simba entered the ladder shaft, 30 feet below them. As he ascended, a mischievous smile, unseen to Timon, grew on Shenzi’s face, and she turned to him.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but...” she started. “Last year a kid fell down the shaft and broke his neck. They took him to the hospital, but they pronounced him D.O.A.”

Now Timon _was_ staring at her. “And...?”

“ _And_ , now they say his ghost haunts the catwalks to this day.

“So, uh, watch your back,” she said, winking slyly at him, just as Simba entered the catwalks with them.

Shenzi’s demeanor changed immediately after Simba’s arrival, which was followed quickly by the others. She started explaining what crew members did in the cats, speaking so quickly that Timon thought he was suffering from conversational whiplash.

As they walked, Timon glanced over his shoulder at the shaft. Obviously Shenzi made up the story to tease him... right?

Once everyone had been certified for the catwalks, they all descended the ladder and re-entered the shop, where, Shenzi announced, Banzai would teach them to use the saws. She stepped back and let him take over.

Four saws, half an hour, and a lot of anxiety later, they had all been through certification. Banzai had also taught them to use the power drills.

When Timon finally got home that night, he was exhausted. He collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep almost immediately, unaware that this was about to become the norm for him.


	3. Chapter 3

About a week later, auditions for acting roles began. Additionally, everyone’s general roles on crew had been worked out. Besides Shenzi being the SM, Banzai was light manager, Ed was in charge of curtains, Simba would be on setcon and flys, Nala would be sound manager, and Timon (after some convincing of Max, who insisted that Timon “should never be put in charge of anything, EVER!”) was deemed prop manager, with Pumbaa as his assistant. A boy named Gavin ran costumes, and a girl named Maya led setcon, while Maya’s best friend, Trisha, was in charge of the makeup department.

Timon met the director on his fourth day at PHS. He was an eccentric man, who insisted everyone call him by his given name, Rafiki. He also stayed away from what Timon, or most people for that matter, would normally consider directorial duties. He preferred to “let the students live out their own artistic vision,” a phrase which seemed to frustrate Shenzi to no end.

“What he doesn’t get,” she ranted, “is that none of us have the same vision as each other!” She, Timon, Simba, and Pumbaa sat in the audition room (which was actually one of the dressing rooms and doubled as a choir classroom), waiting for the first tryouts. Nala and Banzai were also present, but they were busy checking that all of the equipment was in working order. Once they were sure it was, they joined the others in the corner.

Shenzi stared at the bleachers full of anxious actors before flashing a menacing grin at them.

“Hey, look, Shenzi!” Banzai whispered. “There’s the freshmen who stole our table!” Indeed, a group of young students were looking back at Shenzi and Banzai, practically shaking with fear.

Shenzi’s smile widened. “I noticed. Looks like they’re finally figuring out who’s in charge around here.” The malice in her voice made Timon edge away from her slightly, but Shenzi noticed and barked out a laugh. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to hurt them.” She paused, then muttered, “...unless they do something to sabotage my crew.”

Timon, satisfied, scooched back toward Shenzi, perhaps a bit closer than he had been sitting before. Banzai noticed this and snickered, but only Timon heard it.

The auditions began, and it seemed that Shenzi had nothing good to say about anyone who tried out. Timon actually thought some of the actors were quite talented, once you got past the screechy singing of the others, but Shenzi flat-out refused to compliment anyone, even when her face revealed she felt otherwise.

Eventually, the last auditioner finished, and Rafiki addressed the actors. “All of you have done wonderfully,” - Shenzi sighed and shook her head - “but only a few of you will receive leading roles. The callback list will be posted tomorrow morning, and callbacks will be held the same afternoon. Thank you all for coming today.”

The room sighed in relief, glad their most vulnerable time was over. They began to file out, some giggling softly, others still a bit nervous.

Rafiki turned to face the crew members. “Thank you all for coming, too. I’m sure Shenzi has told you by now that starting tomorrow, you will be spending every afternoon here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some auditions to assess.” He walked away, humming a little tune.

Simba was shocked. He turned to Nala and mouthed, _Every day?_ Nala appeared just as surprised as he was, so he took it up with Shenzi instead. “Didn’t you think this was pertinent information? We have outside lives, too!”

Banzai answered instead, cackling. “Not anymore, you don’t!” Seething, Simba looked to the others for backup. Pumbaa glanced at Timon uncertainly, but his friend was preoccupied with Shenzi, who was muttering something about irresponsibility and actors.

Sensing why she might be upset, Timon guessed, “You don’t like him very much, do you?”

“Rafiki? Well, as a person, me ‘n’ Banzai ‘n’ Ed like him just fine. He’s helped us out of a tight spot more than once, actually. But as a director and teacher...” She appeared to be searching for the right words, so Simba stepped in to explain.

“He teaches both biology and drama. He always gives super good advice, and the general consensus is that he’s really cool, but profound wisdom is just about all he gives us.”

“This one time,” Banzai added, “I asked him for help with an assignment, and he told me I would find the answer inside myself if I just looked hard enough!” Even Shenzi forgot her annoyance to laugh at that.

“So...what’s he like as a director?” Pumbaa asked.

“Well,” Shenzi said, calming herself, “...you’ll find out.”

She began to walk away, but Simba stopped her. “Wait! Do we really have to show up _every_ afternoon?”

“Yeah, barring any illness or unprecedented emergencies.”

Upon hearing this, Simba let out a few exaggerated coughs. “Oh no... I must be coming down with something...”

Nala smiled at him, but said, “Oh, Simba, it can’t be that bad. You’ve already proven to be a natural... and besides, the show needs you,” she added, pecking him on the cheek.

“All right, fine. But we’ll have time to do homework, right?”

Banzai looked at Simba like he had three heads. “What in the world do you want to do _homework_ for?”

Shenzi rolled her eyes. “Yes, you’ll have plenty of time. Heck there’ll be whole days when we just won’t have anything to do. Those days we still show up just in case, y’know?”

Now it was Shenzi’s turn to receive Banzai’s confused stare. “What? Whole days?!”

“Yeah, but you and Ed never notice because you’re too busy with ‘naptime’ or otherwise engaging in... antics.”

Timon rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Oh boy, I have _got_ to hear about this.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to witness it firsthand.” Shenzi pulled Timon aside as the others prepared to leave. “Hey, I talked to your uncle today.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“Let’s just say I now have a feeling you might have some _antics_ of your own up your sleeve. Trust me, I get enough of that from those two. Just please, promise me you’ll stay on task.”

Without thinking, Timon replied, “I’ll try... but I can’t really control what I get up to. It’s in my nature.” And then he did what he would later regard as the most impulsive decision of his life.

He winked.

_Oh no._

She stared at him as though she had just discovered his deepest, darkest secret...

_Oh no, now she’ll hate me and she won’t want to talk to me, she’s way out of your league anyway, Timon, didn’t anyone ever tell you that_ Hakuna Matata _means “No Worries,” not “No Filter”?_

...and started to laugh, genuinely, not at him (well, maybe a bit), but mostly like she had accidentally stumbled right into the middle of the funniest situation PHS had to offer. Nervously, he began to laugh as well.

“So...you’re a flirt. Alright, cool with me. It’s cute.”

She walked away, leaving Timon to recognize, in an instant, that she hadn’t meant _You’re cute_ , but a more condescending _Aw, that’s so cute_. Before he could stop himself, he shouted, “Only with you!” She turned, laughed again, and left.

Shenzi had assumed he was joking, or just flirting more, but although the latter was closer to the truth, he certainly had not been joking. He really wasn’t a flirt, preferring to be isolated, except (of course) for Pumbaa, his best friend and ex-boyfriend. This made him think of Shenzi again, worrying him. Simba had been accepting, but would she be so kind? Would she think less of him, or assume that he only liked guys and the flirting was a joke after all?

_Wait. Slow down. She already thinks that last part._ He noticed he was slouching, tucked away in his own mind, and righted his posture.

He changed his tack. Realizing that the flirting _was_ , in fact, in his nature, even though that didn’t mean flirting with everyone was, allowed him to calm down a bit.

_Well... she did say she was ok with the flirting. So keep doing that, and maybe eventually, she’ll catch on that it_ is _only for her?_

More doubts threatened to arise after this thought, but he waved them away with a simple “Hakuna Matata.”


End file.
